


Communication is Key (When Seducing Your Bros)

by the_one_that_fell



Series: OMGCP Rare Pair Hell [13]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: Sometimes, Ransom thought he and Holster could read each other’s minds. Sometimes, that meant they didn’t talk about things they should, like the fact that they were both attracted to men, or the fact that jerking off with your best friend isn’t exactly normal.





	Communication is Key (When Seducing Your Bros)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [here.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/164332770232/communication-is-key-when-seducing-your-bros)
> 
> CW: NSFW, fantasizing about a third party without their consent, boys being gross

“Do you ever think of Bitty?”

If Holster had asked that in a normal context, Ransom probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it and replied, “Uh, yeah, I mean, he lives right downstairs.”

As it were, however, Holster brought up this question as they sat in their respective bunks, the only other sounds their labored breathing and the quiet squelch of two hands pumping furiously.

Needless to say, Ransom was taken aback.

“You mean-? Like-? Like right now?” He asked, toes curling as he let himself imagine it, just for a second before shutting down that avenue of thought.

“Yeah,” Holster huffed, the power of his strokes shaking the frame of the bed. “Like. I mean, he’s hot, right?”

Sometimes, Ransom thought he and Holster could read each other’s minds. Sometimes, that meant they didn’t talk about things they should, like the fact that they were both attracted to men, or the fact that jerking off with your best friend isn’t exactly normal.

“Totally.” Though Ransom preferred big guys, guys who towered over even him, with broad shoulders and thick waists, he could see the appeal in someone like Bitty. Young and lithe and tan, Bitty had those large, warm eyes and a pretty, pink mouth that begged to be kissed. Most days, Ransom considered Bitty the sort of guy you dated, whose hand you held on walks around campus at dusk and kissed innocently at the door. But right now, so close to the edge, he understood what Holster was saying. Bitty was  _hot._

“I just-” Holster moaned, softer than Ransom had expected from him when they first started doing this. “I feel weird- saying this about a friend but-”

“He looks like he was born to have a cock in him?” Ransom guessed, feeling that familiar, tight coiling in his gut.

“I feel like a dirty, old man thinking that,” Holster breathed. “But  _yeah_. I wanna- he’s so  _nice-”_

_“_ You wanna make an honest man outta him?” Ransom guessed again. When Holster grunted in affirmation, Ransom added, “Doesn’t mean you can’t think about it.”

“Don’t even know if he’d want to,” Holster said, voice oscillating between grunts and pants. “But  _fuck_ can you imagine him, bouncing up and down on your lap, fucking himself on you like you’re not even there? Just fucking blissed out, using you for his own pleasure?”

And,  _oh,_ Ransom could see it. Bitty – sweet, enthusiastic Bitty – losing his mind while fucking impaling himself on Holster’s monster cock- no, Ransom’s-  _no. Holster’s._ Bitty’s tiny ass stretched so wide around it-

“I wanna get him off,” Holster continued, rambling uncontrollably as his pace quickened. “Like- you’ve heard him when he tries a new type of pie. The  _sounds-”_

And all Ransom could see now was Bitty pressed up against the kitchen counter, head tilted back, baring the cords of muscle in his neck as Holster knelt in front of him. He wore Ransom’s jersey and nothing else- they both did. They both-

“Sometimes I just wanna- wanna ask him to come to the attic. See what happens. Maybe he- maybe he’d say yes.”

Bitty had once drunkenly admitted to Ransom that he had no issue with casual sex, personally, but the idea of fucking a stranger scared him witless. But maybe if it was someone like Holster, someone like  _him_ -

“Wanna make him feel good,” Holster grunted, bed frame wobbling a bit harder. “Don’t you?”

And he did. Ransom wanted to pin Bitty- pin Holster- pin the both of them down and get his mouth on them, his hands. He wanted to finally  _see_ what Holster’s face did when he came, wanted to hear the breathy whines he was certain Bitty would make, wanted to curl around the both of them in Holster’s tiny bunk and never let go.

Ransom came unexpectedly, and harder than he usually did masturbating. He could hear Holster’s surprised half-shout, and knew he’d finished too.

They both stayed in their bunks for several minutes, panting in relative silence. Eventually, Holster shifted to look up at him, chest and neck flushed red.

“That was creepy, wasn’t it?” He asked, grabbing his glasses from the floor where he’d tossed them earlier.

“Maybe,” Ransom admitted. “We should- um…”

“Talk to Bits?” Holster finished with a laugh. “Maybe, yeah.”

But they didn’t have the best track record with talking. They didn’t talk, usually, in the aftermath of one of these sessions. They didn’t talk about the frequency with which Ransom slipped into Holster’s bunk at night. They didn’t talk about Ransom’s breakup with March, or the kiss they shared at Christmas under the mistletoe, or-

Well, now they were talking about Bitty. And it felt wrong. But it also felt necessary. Eventual, even.

“We could-” Ransom started, then hesitated for a moment. “I think I want more than a hookup.”

“Yeah,” Holster breathed, sounding caught between relief and…reluctant? “Samesies.”

Ransom couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “With…both of you…I think.”

The bed shook suddenly, and Ransom found himself face-to-face with Holster, who was clinging haphazardly to the rail of Ransom’s bunk. “Yeah?” He asked, grinning shyly.

“Yeah,” Ransom said, leaning closer. Before he could kiss Holster, however, the big idiot had jumped down and flung open the attic door, stark naked.

“ _BIT-TAY_!” He shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands. Eyes widening in fear, Ransom leapt from the top bunk to grab a pair of sweatpants off the floor. He still had cum on his stomach, which he wiped at furiously with one of the paper napkins they’d received with their Chipotle take-out a few days ago.

“ _Adam_ ,” he hissed, chucking the napkin at Holster’s back. “Put some fucking pants on!”

“What’re you two hollerin’ about?” A voice called up the stairs.

“ _Nothing!_ ” Ransom shouted, slamming the door shut before Bitty could come upstairs and see Holster and- “Adam Birkholtz,” he whispered, back against the door. “There is  _cum on you_.  _The fuck, bro_?”

“Oh.” Holster looked down at himself and laughed. “Gross.”

Ransom looked back on his life choices and wondered where he’d gone wrong. “Get cleaned up. Put on clothes. Think with your upstairs brain for  _five minutes._ Then we can go downstairs and seduce Bits. Okay?”

The goofy look on Holster’s face did not instill confidence in Ransom. “You’re cute when you’re bossing me around,” he said, reaching out to reel Ransom in by the elastic of his (Holster’s) sweatpants. “Everything is weird,” he added, looking a little dazed. “Can I kiss you now, or do I have to put on pants first?”

Ransom answered him by pulling their mouths together, surprisingly soft and tender given that they’d just shared an intensely dirty fantasy. Holster was so  _big_  – and that meant a lot coming from someone Ransom’s size – and loud and everywhere and everything, but he kissed like Ransom were something delicate and precious, like something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to have.

“ _Now_  you have to put on pants,” Ransom chirped, reaching over to grab another napkin. As Holster pulled on a ratty pair of basketball shorts, Ransom wiped the cum from his abs, finding more pleasure than disgust in the act. Holster had nice abs, and Ransom fought the urge to lick them clean.

“Now,” Ransom said, grabbing shirts for the both of them. “Bet you ten bucks I can seduce him faster.”

“Fuck you, Justin,” Holster said, elbowing Ransom out of the way to pull open the attic door again. “I’ve got so much game, it’s not even funny.”

Instead of his usual comeback, Ransom opted to slap Holster’s ass, hurrying him down the stairs. Holster laughed and kissed him sweetly, then shoved him into the wall. “Race you!” He shouted, taking the stairs two at a time.

Ransom called him a milkbag and a few other less savory things, and followed him, laughing, into the kitchen, where Bitty awaited them and their antics, unaware of what they were about to propose.

**Author's Note:**

> Like reading stuff written by me on occasion? Check out my free online serialized novel, [The Discourt Knife.](thediscourtknife.tumblr.com) Chapter 7 was just posted a few days ago and stuff's exciting, I guess. Thanks!


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